


A Wild One

by MeBeShe



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Anal, Angst, Biting, Fingering, First Time, M/M, Scratching, blowjob, hairpulling, its super effective, preshow, rangar uses dirty talk, teen kinda-romance, teen!vikings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-29
Updated: 2013-03-29
Packaged: 2017-12-06 20:38:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/739922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeBeShe/pseuds/MeBeShe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a spontaneous event on Floki's dock one night, how will Floki react when Ragnar seeks him out after a raid?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Wild One

The first time Floki and Ragnar fucked, they couldn't have seen more then 15 summers each. Ragnar was just beginning to fill in the promise in his shoulders and hips, while Floki was all elbows and knees, with a skinnyness that would never truly go away. 

Ragnar was the son of a farmer, but training to be a warrior. Floki was the son of a shipwright, training to be a shipwright. He was skinny and dirty and sometimes so absorbed in his projects he forgot to eat. He didn't just make ships. He made things out of leftover bones and pieces of wood, and hung them around the forest of his home. He found berries and leaves and flowers and dried and smoked them above the fire pit in his house and used them in his creations. He would take a stick from last night's fire, and draw on the side of the house with it; beasts of every shape and size, creatures from the myths and tales of the gods, and monsters from Floki's own head. Some monsters would make it to the prows of the boats he helped his father carve; elegant beasts with a broad curving necks and delicate vinework on the sides. 

Floki was also shy. He was good at hiding it. He liked to pretend that people's laughter didn't bother him, that he didn't hear the comments that people made on the street when he passed. He chose not to listen to the rumors that flew about him in the mead hall, how he might be blood of Loki. Nobody would know, for Floki's mother died birthing him. For all Floki knew he might be. Floki tried to pretend that it didn't bother him, but Ragnar could tell. His eyes would get a little bit tighter, he would curve in on him slightly, and he would chew on his tumbnail. Only 15 summers old and he was already reluctant to go into the village, preferring to stay near his home on the bayside; drawing and carving and creating. 

That was where Ragnar found him, after he had managed to convince his father that he could make it back to the farm by himself after the Thing. He'd been using a shield and axe for well over two years, and could defend himself if need be. 

Floki was perched on edge of the dock, one foot trailing in the water, a small knife in hands, working on something in the early summer evening. He looked up from his work when Ragnar's foot hit the dock with a hollow tump. 

"Still not going in the water?" Ragnar asked sitting himself down next to Floki, putting his things behind him and leaning on his bedroll. 

"Not after last time. I'm still getting water out of my ears." Floki chuckled darkly and blew some dust off of what he was carving. Ragnar had attempted to teach Floki to swim, the end result being Floki nearly drowning and coughing up half of the ocean while in Ragnar's arms. 

"I didn't see you at the Thing." Ragnar has his eyes closed but he could sense Floki stiffen beside him. "We'll be raiding east this year. Like every other year." 

"They'll be expecting you by now." Floki lay next to Ragnar, his head hitting the dock with a solid thunk. 

"Is that you caring about me?" Ragnar opened his eyes and looked at Floki who was busy continuing to carve his little something. Floki remained silent, intent on his knife. 

"Why weren't you at the Thing? Your father was." Ragnar turned over on his side, propping his head up on his elbow. 

"You know why." 

"No, I don't."

"I do not want to spend my time around people who hate me. Around people who make me hate myself." Floki burrowed the tip of the knife in the small piece of wood he had in his hands. Ragnar put his free hand on Floki's, stopping the constant movement. 

"They don't hate you Floki." Floki shrugged out of his grip and sat up. 

"They do. Don't lie to me. I'm surprised you like me." Floki smiled sadly. "I don't even like me." Ragnar didn't know what to say, so he sat up and pulled Floki into a tight hug, holding the skinny apprentice close. Floki tucked his head under Ragnar's head, holding his hands to his chest. 

"I like you. A lot. Far more then I should." Ragnar truly enjoyed the feeling of Floki nestled into him. He ran his hands down Floki's sides, feeling his ribs through his shirt as he went, burying his face in Floki's curly hair. He worked his hands under Floki's shirt and felt warm skin, soft and smooth. He felt Floki's hot breath on his neck and trailed his nose along the shell of Floki's ear. Floki sucked in a sharp breath, so Ragnar bit down on the skin behind his ear, where his jaw met his thin neck and got a thin whimper from the boy in his arms. 

Floki pulled his head away from Ragnar's chest but before he could get a word out, Ragnar kissed him. It was a heart beat of nothing before Floki was kissing him back, dropping what was in his hands to the dock and twisting around in Ragnar's arms to straddle him properly. 

Floki wound his hands in Ragnar's hair as he worked his mouth open with his tongue, tasting mead and meat and berries. Ragnar ran his hands up Floki's torso, fingers dancing over his ribs and his backbone, pulling away from Floki to bite and pull at his lower lip. Floki ground down onto Ragnar, his cock straining through the thin breeches he was wearing. Ragnar dragged his fingernails down Floki's back at the shot of pleasure that went down his spine, and Floki threw back his head and moaned. 

Ragnar wasn't surprised that Floki had a thing for pain. In fact, it gave him an idea. He tangled his fingers in Floki's hair and yanked his head backwards exposing his long, pale throat. Ragnar put his other hand on Floki's hip and ground into the boy in his lap while he bit down on Floki's neck. 

Floki gasped out something that sounded like his name and ran one long-fingered hand down Ragnar's chest to his laces which he started to undo, the other working it's way into his hair. Ragnar moved his hand from Floki's hip to his breeches and opened them, and worked his hand inside Floki's pants. He freed Floki's cock, thin and long and listing slightly to the right and wrapped his hand around the shaft, causing Floki to swear in pleasure, and pull Ragnar in for another kiss, teeth clashing together and drawing blood from one of them. 

Floki delved his hand into Ragnar's pants and wrapped his hand around Ragnar's cock, the thin, calloused fingers wrapping delicately around his shaft. Ragnar moaned out loud then, bucking his hips into Floki's hand. He ripped himself away from Floki's mouth. 

"Wait, here, let me try something." He gasped out. He grabbed his own cock and Floki's in his hand, the sensation of both his hand and Floki's cock rubbing against his making pleasure pool deep in his spine. Floki moaned deep in his chest and kissed Ragnar again, wrapping both of arms around Ragnar's shoulders, holding him close. 

Ragnar was already discovering that kissing Floki was different then had imagined, and he had imagined quite a bit. Floki was constantly moving; he was bucking up and down, writhing against Ragnar and bucking against his hand in a quick rhythm. But kissing Floki was more intoxicating then he could ever have dreamed. The way he moved against Ragnar, like the sea he couldn't swim in, how the whimpers and gasps would escape him as Ragnar worked his cock, and how he would moan outright when Ragnar bit or scratched him, the way his hands were tangled in his hair or would travel over his shoulders and back. 

Ragnar couldn't get enough of him. Ragnar wanted to see him naked in the light of a fire, wanted to fuck him in the forest he loved, wanted to take him out on a boat and fuck him to the rhythm of the rolling ocean, he wanted to get his hands on all parts of Floki, and he wanted to get Floki's mouth wrapped around his cock. 

That thought is what sent him over the edge, biting deep into the muscle of Floki's neck, and tasting blood. Floki gave one final whine and painted Ragnar's hand white. Ragnar took a steadying breath and opened his eyes, somewhere along the line he closed them. Before he could say a word though, Floki closed his pants, scurried off his lap, and ran into the forest. 

~*~

Why did he do that? Why did he do that? Why did he let himself have sex with Ragnar Lothbrok? Floki ran through the forest, heart pounding in his ears. Ragnar was his only friend. The only person he knew who could stand to be around him. His own father didn't like him. He was different, he was strange.

He ran through the wood, navigating by the light of the moon. By the time he reached his favorite spot, his mouth had long gone dry and his lungs and legs were burning. 

If anyone in the village found this spot, they would condemn him for ergi. Floki walked into the clearing and collapsed to his knees on the forest floor. He had picked this spot to make his altar. He had spent years hunting for the things he would need, and when he had completed it, he had felt such a sense of pride in himself. 

The clearing was filled with little statues made of bone and masks made of bark. There were chimes hanging from the trees and antlers strapped to trunks of ancient pines. The trees were stripped of their bark in such a way as to show the pale flesh beneath, and he drew on them with charcoal. He drew flowers and birds and beasts. He drew monsters and mountains and oceans. He drew people too. People from the village, from his life. He drew his father, he drew Ragnar and his brother Rollo. He drew what he thought his mother looked like, from what his father told him. He managed to move a truly massive flat stone into the far end of the clearing, and decorate it with runes and small statues he had made in his spare time, and candles and herbs. He had chosen this place, and made it his own. He came here to talk to the gods. He came here to feel a little less alone in the world. But now, he was feeling more alone then ever. 

He had just had sex with Ragnar Lothbrok. He had just had sex with his only friend. He had possibly just ruined his friendship. He closed his eyes and calmed himself. It wouldn't do to cry. Crying solved nothing in this world. He could smell Ragnar on his skin, taste him on his lips. He had been dreaming about Ragnar for years. 

Ragnar was a warrior, was meant to do great things. Floki wasn't. Floki was strange. He was different. He was a freak. And yet, Ragnar wanted to be his friend. Ragnar went so far as to seek him out, to spend time with him. Floki was proud to show Ragnar his carvings and his drawings. He felt pride in his work when he showed it to Ragnar, the only person he felt liked him. He had felt pride in himself too. 

And he just shattered that like a blade on a stone. 

"Please..." 

He didn't know who he was praying too. All he knew is that he didn't want Ragnar to leave him. He didn't want his only friend to go away. 

The sounds of birds and chipmunks and squirrels woke Floki up the next morning. Somehow, he had fallen asleep in the middle of his clearing. He stood up, and stretched, and felt a pain in his neck. He felt the sore spot, and knew it was a bruise from the night before. On his neck. Ragnar had marked him. His cock stirred treacherously in his pants, and he ignored it. His home wasn't far from here, and his father would be returning from the Thing at midday. He needed to get home. 

~*~ 

Floki was focused on the prow. This was going to be his best work yet. He ignored the voice in the back of his head that told him why. Ragnar had gone on a raid, and was due back a week ago. He hadn't seen Ragnar since the night on the dock, and had been throwing himself into his work. Partially to keep from remembering what had happened, partially to keep himself from worrying about his friend (lover?). On those nights when he couldn't sleep even when his body was aching and his hands were throbbing with pain, he carved something he had been working on. For Ragnar when (if) he returned. 

He pushed those thoughts out of his head and focused on the vines trailing up the dragon's neck, carving them out with a little knife shaped like a little shovel. The dragon's head was completed, a beautiful thing. His father had gone to town to negotiate with Earl Harldson on the price of a new ship, so he hadn't been here to tell Floki what to do, so Floki just carved as fancy took him. 

The head of the dragon was a monstrous thing, a large as a moose head, with the skeletal structure underneath showing, as if the dragon had no flesh. It's mouth was bared in a fierce snarl, it's fangs over a foot long. The tongue curled out of it's mouth and over it's chin, touching the prow in a delicate arc. Floki was proud of it. He took a step back and heard a twig break. 

"That's going to keep the beasts of the ocean away for sure." Floki turned around and there was Ragnar. 

He was thinner then when he had left, and and his left arm was in a sling. Floki's heart was thumping wildly in his throat. He wanted to say everything and nothing. He wanted to tell Ragnar that's he sorry for running, that he worried constantly while he was away, that he wanted to kiss him and hold him and run his fingers through his hair. He wanted to say a million things to Ragnar. But he couldn't. His mouth had gone as dry as week-old bread and his pulse was pounding in his ears. He put his knife down before he hurt himself. 

"You're hurt." He reached out with a shaky hand and lightly touched the wrappings around Ragnar's upper arm. 

"It's nothing. Just a cut." Ragnar put his things down and pulled Floki into a hug. Floki wrapped his arms around Ragnar, holding him close. They were almost of a hight when Floki straightened out. 

"I brought you something. From the raid." Ragnar whispered into Floki's ear. "Some new lord had a built a new hall right on the river. He was arrogant, the townspeople knew we were coming, but he didn't listen. We raided his home in the dead of night." Ragnar's voice in his ear was making him shiver and causing his cock to harden. "I spent the whole time thinking of you. Of what happened on your dock. I missed you. Terribly. By the time we found the fortress on the hill I was hard all day and all night. I was dreaming of you, of your mouth, of your body, of your cock, even when I was awake. I was looking for something to bring you, something fit for you." Ragnar had slipped his good hand under Floki's shirt and was tracing patterns on the skin of his back. Ragnar nibbled on the shell of Floki's ear lightly, causing his hips to stutter against Ragnar's. "Something to match your beauty and your grace." 

Floki's pulse was pounding in his ears and in his cock. Twice now, Ragnar had come to him, and seduced him. Floki felt a blooming sense of pride. Rangar wanted him. Badly. 

But the little voice in the back of his head spoke up: what if he's just doing this because you're here? Not because he wants you, how could he ever want you? Floki couldn't ignore it this time. He pulled away from Ragnar's body and dodged at attempted kiss. 

"What it is? What's wrong? Is there someone else? Is that why you ran?" Ragnar backed away and stared at Floki. Floki started to chew on his thumb nail and think. "Please, don't do that." Ragnar asked. 

"Do what?" Floki was confused. 

"The kicked puppy look. Where you curl in on yourself like you have no armor." Ragnar took his arm out of the sling and ran both hands up Floki's arms, wincing slightly. "What's wrong?" 

"Are you using me?" It came out like an accusation. He didn't mean for it to sound so harsh. Trust him to ruin something before he even had it."I mean, am I just whatever we did, or is it more?" He was frightened. If Ragnar walked away, he would pack his bags and find another village, somewhere else. Far away from here. Ragnar tangled his fingers into the fine hairs on the base of his scalp, and pulled Floki in for a kiss. It wasn't like the kisses from the night on the dock. Those were full of heat and passion, they woke up a deep hunger in Floki's veins and set his skin aflame. This was sweet, and spoke of tenderness and promises. Ragnar pulled away and set his forehead against Floki's. 

"My ship came in this morning. I haven't even been home yet. I came straight here, to see you. I had too. I had to see you again." Floki took a deep breath. The deep knot that had been in his chest that had been tormenting him had vanished. Floki ran his hands up Ragnar's arms, fingers dancing over his bandages. Floki tilted his head forward a little bit, and kissed Ragnar. It was sweet and gentle and everything that Floki didn't know he wanted. He felt Ragnar nip on his lip and he gasped. 

Before he knew it Ragnar had him pressed up against the almost completed ship, one hand under shirt, the other on his hip. He had his hands on Ragnar's ass, after many years of dreaming about it. Ragnar bit down his neck and his head hit the side of the ship with a solid thunk as pleasure hit his spine like a lightening bolt. 

"Wait, not here. I want to do this properly, not like last time." Ragnar pulled away from Floki. Floki grinned. He was never so glad that his father was gone. He grabbed Ragnar's and pulled him into his home. 

They didn't even make it to Floki's cot in corner; Floki had pulled Ragnar into a deep kiss right by the dead fire pit. Ragnar ran his hands under Floki's shirt, pulling up as he went as Floki traced the muscles of his stomach with his calloused and sap-sticky finger tips. They pulled apart and Ragnar pulled Floki's shirt over his head and attacked his neck and shoulders as Floki pulled on the laces of his shirt. Floki was panting, his heart beat fluttering wildly beath Ragnar's lips reminding him of a hummingbird. He put his hand in the small of Floki's back and pulled the thinner boy to him, biting his neck lightly. Floki had undone the laces of his shirt, and pushed it off his shoulders and was running his hands over the muscles in his arms as Ragnar toed off his boots. 

Ragnar slid his thigh in between Floki's and ground against the hard cock he found. Floki moaned and undid the laces on his pants, and then sunk to his knees in front of Ragnar, giving him the grin that made his heart race. Floki pressed his face to the front of his pants, breathing into the wool. 

Ragnar wound his fingers into Floki's hair, trying not to buck his hips. Floki mouthed at his cock, tracing the outline against the wet wool with his wicked tongue, humming in his throat. 

"Gods, Floki. Don't tease." He moaned out, trying not close his eyes. He didn't want to miss a second of this. 

"Don't worry Ragnar. After all the waiting you made me do I don't plan to tease." Floki gave him that grin again and pulled down his pants, freeing his cock and wrapping one hand around the shaft and the other around his hips. Floki was true to his word, and pulled the head of Ragnar's cock into his mouth. 

Ragnar let out a hissing breath and had to focus on the cold fingers on his hips to keep from spilling right then. The warm, wet heat of Floki's mouth was intoxicating. Floki swirled his tongue around the head of his cock, and slid his mouth down the shaft, hollowing out his cheeks. Ragnar bucked into Floki's mouth, causing him choke lightly. Floki pulled off a bit, and then dove back in. Floki's mouth was driving him insane and it was better then he could ever have dreamed, ever have though about in those cold nights alone. He looked down and saw Floki's brows furrowed in concentration and his lips stretched around his cock. He pulled Floki off gently and kneeled down to kiss away the look of confusion on his face. 

"Do you have any oil, anything to ease the way?"He asked kissing down Floki's chest. Without saying anything Floki got up and walked to other side of the house and rummaged through what looked like a spare worktable. He gave a little jump of joy and came back to Ragnar, awkwardly taking off his boots and shimmying out of his pants as he went. He joined Ragnar on the floor and kissed him again, flaunting a small bottle of oil. Ragnar chuckled. 

"Easy, we have all night." He ran his free hand down Floki's side, watching the muscles move under hand. 

"Yes, we do. But I want you now." Floki grabbed the back of Ragnar's neck and pulled him down on top of him. He eased his pants down the rest of the way with one hand as he held Ragnar's head in place with the other. Ragnar chuckled into the kiss and propped himself up on left arm, wincing a bit. Floki pulled back and touched his bandages with a look of concern. "I'll be fine." Rangar kissed his brow lightly and kicked off his pants to land somewhere with a crash. Floki opened the bottle with deft fingers and handed it to Ragnar. 

"Do you trust me?" Ragnar asked, placing his hand in the middle of Floki's chest. 

"Yes, you know I do." Floki said, slightly confused. He had a thought of what Ragnar wanted to do, and he was on board with the idea. Ragnar smiled and kissed Floki again. "I want you to relax." Ragnar spread some of the oil on his fingers and traced Floki's entrance. Floki sucked in a sharp breath. 

"Tell me if you want to stop. Because I will." Ragnar kissed along Floki's neck as he gently pressed a finger in. He could feel Floki tense along his entire body. He stopped as his finger bottomed out, letting him get used to the new sensation. 

"It's..." Floki swallowed. "It's strange, but I like it." Ragnar grinned and started pumping his finger and slowly added another. Floki's hips stuttered a bit and his pulse picked up under Ragnar's throat as he curled his arms around Ragnar's back. He curled his fingers inside of Floki, hunting for a spot he heard people in the mead hall gossip about. Floki suddenly keened and bowed off the floor, scratching deep furrows into the flesh of his back. 

"Please, do that again. Please." Ragnar smirked and hit that spot again causing Floki to kiss him deeply. Before long Floki was a keening, moaning mess on the floor, bucking into Ragnar's hips, grinding their cocks together, swearing and muttering his name while throwing his head back and exposing his neck which was too much temptation to resist. Ragnar pulled his fingers out of Floki and slicked himself up. But when he tried to prop himself up on his hand his left arm gave out, causing him to collapse onto Floki in a very non-sexual way. 

"Are you alright?" Floki pulled Ragnar's head up and noticed his face was even more pale then before. Ragnar nodded shakily. "I have an idea." Floki gently turned Ragnar over onto his back and straddled his hips, kissing him again. Now that he could kiss Ragnar, he wasn't sure if he could ever stop. Ragnar ran his hands up and down Floki's sides causing him to shiver. 

"I like this idea. I get to see you, I get to watch you." Ragnar said, pushing Floki upright. For once, Floki wasn't trying to cover himself. Ragnar was looking at him with an expression of wonder. Ragnar made him feel wanted, loved even. Maybe, with time, he could learn to love himself too. He smirked and watched as Ragnar's eyes were drawn to his lips. He licked them and Ragnar dragged his finger nails down his ribs. Floki ground his hips down onto Ragnar's cock and leaned forward to kiss him again. As they pulled away Ragnar whispered teasingly against his lips: "Are you going to ride me or not?" 

Floki reached behind him and suddenly Ragnar's cock felt immense. He felt Ragnar put a gentle hand on his hip and trace the outline of the bone with his thumb. He guided Ragnar to his entrance and slowly lowered himself down. He grit his teeth at the burn and forced himself to relax. He heard Ragnar moan under him and slowly sank down until he couldn't anymore. 

He was breathing shallowly and a fine sheet of sweat had broken out all over his skin. The feeling was unusual, but he found that he liked it. Ragnar placed his other hand on his ribs, tracing the bones there. Floki put his hands on Ragnars chest and moved. 

Having sex with Ragnar Lothbrok was the best idea he'd ever had. There was pleasure in every part of his body. This was nothing like when he had taken himself in hand before, not even like that time on the dock. This was incredible. There was pure, white-hot pleasure was bolting up and down his spine, Ragnar's hands were warm and heavy on his skin ,one hand moving up his spine while the other traced one of his nipples in such a way to make him grind his teeth, and he couldn't keep quiet. Every other stroke was hitting that strange spot in him that caused his whole body to jerk and his voice to go up. 

"Look at you, Floki. All marked up with bites and bruises. You're gorgeous." Floki preened. 

He smiled bent his back for show, tilting back his head because Ragnar couldn't get enough of his throat. He dug his fingers into Ragnar's chest. Just when he thought it couldn't get any better, Ragnar wrapped his hand around Floki's cock. Ragnar starting pumping in time to his hips and the pool of pleasure in Floki's gut got both tighter and hotter. He was jostled a bit as Ragnar pushed himself up with his good arm, and kissed Floki good and hard. Floki gasped into Ragnar's mouth as pleasure overwhelmed him, and he came all over Ragnar's chest and hand. Ragnar came a few seconds later, moaning Floki's name deep in his chest. 

Ragnar collapsed on the floor panting like he had just fought for his life. Floki pulled off of him, wincing at the sensation. He felt behind him with his foot and found what felt like a shirt. He pulled it to him and cleaned them both off before collapsing next to Ragnar and curling into him like a cat. Ragnar pulled him close and kissed him lightly. 

"You said I made you wait. You were waiting for me?" Ragnar nuzzled into Floki's curls, breathing in his scent. Floki nodded, and then grinned. He stood up, and stretched unashamedly as he walked over to his cot. Ragnar turned and admired the view as Floki dug around for something. When Floki came back Ragnar got a good look at his front; he was nothing but a mass of scratch marks, bites and bruises, from the middle of his chest to his jaw. He was a mess. He was beautiful. Floki lay next to him on his side and handed him a small wooden bird. 

"That's what I was working on, the night at the dock." Ragnar looked at it; it was a real masterpiece. The bird was no bigger then palm, but it looked like it was about to take off. Its little feet were digging into his palm, its feathers looked downy-soft, it even had a small twig in its beak, complete with a leaf. 

"Floki, this is beautiful." Ragnar held it to the light coming from the smoke hole, and smiled at the skinny boy in front of him. He smiled lightly. 

"I have something for you." He stood up and Floki followed him outside, neither of them caring that they were naked. There was nobody else around for miles. Ragnar rummaged in his pack and pulled out a white wolf pelt, thick and warm and soft. He presented it to Floki, who ran his hands over it. 

"The new lord was going to give it to his wife. I took it for you." 

Floki pulled it to his face and smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> I chose to write Floki the way I did in the beginning of the fic because the Floki in the show has had some time to build up his "I don't give a fuck" shell. 15 year old Floki would still care about what people think, and would try to make himself into something that people would like. It's a headcannon of mine that Floki uses magic, so he would have an altar, and in the show we see he makes all these cool little things, so I figured he would make things for his altar. This was supposed to be a little pwp oneshot, but somehow along the line I ended up pouring every feeling about myself that I've had sense high school into it and grew into this. And this fic did far more good for me emotionally and mentally then all the money that my parents spent on therapy. Writing gay teen viking buttsex cleared out all of my rather constipated emotions. Go figure. This fic is dedicated to all of my followers on Tumblr, who had to listen to me complain about writing it, and for Rachel, my fellow Floki nut.


End file.
